Last Resort
by Random Dice
Summary: The room looked like an F5 tornado dropped down in just that one spot. The mattress was half way on the box spring, the covers and sheets and pillows were scattered around the room. The mirror on the vanity that Santana loved was shattered.
1. Prolog

**Title:** Last Resort  
><strong>Fandom:<strong> Glee  
><strong>Pairings:<strong> Santana/Brittany? I'm not sure yet, I know Lauren/Puck and Tina/Mike, but for anything else, it's a toss up, you guys can review with the ships you want and I'll see what I can do.  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T (Self Mutilation and Attempted Suicide)  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Yes, most of all Glee…  
><strong>Summary: <strong>The room looked like an F5 tornado dropped down in just that one spot. The mattress was half way on the box spring, the covers and sheets and pillows were scattered around the room. The mirror on the vanity that Santana loved was shattered.  
><strong>Author's Note:<strong> This is a multi-chapter story, and it's going to be long…_long_, I felt you needed a warning, so if you want to stay with, welcome aboard U.S.S Suicidal Santana and her recovery…I've had this in my books for a while, so I finally decided to write it…The story line is before season three, I'll have dates and stuff on the chapters, so it might be a little askew from the actual dates in the episodes, just stick with me…And yes, Santana's dad's name is Mario, I only thought of the actor after I wrote it all and Mario was already stuck to the story…The genres may change…  
><em><strong>If you ever feel like she's feeling, if you hurt your self andor feel like life isn't worth it anymore, please, PM me and I'll give you my number and we'll talk, whenever, okay? I know what it feels like, to feel so awful, so just, please…  
><strong>_Also, does it snow in Ohio?  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>I won't own it ever, and now that I think about it, I wouldn't want to own _Glee_, too much pressure…

_Last Resort_

_**February 25, 2011**_

"Alright guys," Mr. Shue clapped his hands together, smiling around at his students. "Let's wrap it up today-"

"Wrap what up? Cause it's not anybodies birthday." Brittany scratched her head confused with her index finger.

"...Glee is over today. I have a doctor's appointment to get to, so drive safe, have a good weekend, bye!" The curly haired teacher quickly collected his things and scurried out the choir room door. Everyone, with the exception of Artie who was sick that day, sat still and waited until the door closed behind him before they started talking.

"Satan's been gone for a week now." Mercedes started off the topic for the day.

"Did she text anyone yet?" Kurt asked, glancing at Puck and Brittany for answers. All the teens shook their heads.

"I texted her to tell her my kitties were trying to get me to tell them all my secrets, but she never answered back." The kids let go of the weirdness of Brittany's statement and focused on what she told them.

No one has seen or heard from Santana in seven days.

"Maybe we should go to her house?" Tina suggested with an uncertain shrug of her shoulder.

"Which one?" Brittany asked.

"Um, she only has one Britt." Quinn answered, rolling her hazel eyes.

"No. She has one with her Mom and one with her Dad. She's with her Mom on school days and with her Dad on weekends."

The Glee club frowned at not knowing their resident Bitch's parents were divorced and she was shuffled between the two.

"We could check her Mom's first, then her Dad's."

"Okay, who's driving?"

Once they were situated in Kurt's escalade and Mike's Mom's minivan, Brittany gave directions to Santana's Mom. They passed the good neighborhoods to the worst part of Lima, Ohio. Houses were falling apart, dealers stood on corners, people high on whatever they could find wobbled on their rotting porches.

They finally reached the Lopez house.

After some small debate, all the kids got out and huddled close together and went to knock on the door of the dark house. Some fumbling was heard from within the house and a woman answered the door. The club jumped back. Her hair was all over the place, a roller still dangling from a section. Too much make-up caked her face, trying to bring back beauty that was once there, but now forever gone.

"Whadya wan'?" She barked out in a slurred voice, clearly drunk. Puck pushed Rachel out. She turned to glare at him before looking at the frightful woman in front of her.

"Uh, we wanted to know, if, uh, Santana was home?" Rachel stuttered. The woman narrowed her eyes into a horrific glare.

"That faggot doesn' live 'ere an'more." She slammed the door hard enough that the windows shook. The club was stunned at the cold anger coming from the mother of their friend.

"To her Dad's?" The group quickly left in a relieved hurry. Pulling up to her fathers, it was clearly much better than the other house. Once again they all got out of their cars and Quinn knocked on the door. It was silent before rushing footsteps came to the door. Her Dad stood at a full six foot nine, attaching a Rolex watch to his wrist.

"Hello?"

"We're Santana's friends-"

"Oh, right, Cheerios?"

"…No, Glee club." Mercedes answered slowly.

"Santana's in Glee? Did that just happen?" He looked confused and a little frustrated that his watch wouldn't clasp.

"She's been in Glee for two years." Rachel said incredulously.

"Oh, when she gets back from her mother's, I'll ask her about it."

"She's not at Ms. Lopez's house." That stilled his fumbling hands.

"What, why?" His worried eyes peered into all of theirs.

"Ms. Lopez kicked Santana out…You didn't know?" Quinn told him, concerned.

"No, but she said on Sunday that she was going to her mother's." He left the doorway, dropping the watch, and booked it up the narrow stairs to a closed door. The club followed him. He tried the door knob and when he felt it resist, he knew it was locked, something you could only do from the inside. He stepped back a foot and ramped him shoulder against the wooden door.

"Mija!" He did it again and again, making no progress against the door. "Santana!" Stepping back again, he turned his body to the other side and made his entire body fly at the door. It finally gave way and the desperate father stumbled into the darkness. He looked about the room and ran into another door that was left ajar with the light filtering into the main room.

His cry of anguish called to the Glee clubs heart strings and pulled them into the room. Brittany, Puck, Quinn, and Mercedes went into the room first, followed slowly by everyone else.

What Mercedes saw in just the room alone was enough to make her want to throw her cookies. Sam, Finn, and Tina rushed out, all three turning a little green. Mike left to go comfort his girlfriend and Lauren walked out to help the boys, but mostly because she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Mercedes took one long glance around the room before leaving too, to help Lauren with the others.

Brittany walked to the window and pushed back the curtain so the already darkroom would light up. Quinn searched the wall for the light switch and when she found, she flipped it up with a click.

The room looked like an F5 tornado dropped down in just that one spot. The mattress was half way on the box spring, the covers and sheets and pillows were scattered around the room. The mirror on the vanity that Santana loved was shattered. Blood stained the broken pieces of glass, the wall and floor had droplets ebbing in a trail going to the room that Mr. Lopez was now in.

Papers with Santana's writing stuck out from under the mattress and fell on the floor, swooshing when the people walked by. The walls. It was truly the walls that made all the girls tear up and the two remaining guys clench their fists.

_Faggot. Homo. Big Fat Lesbian. Hate the World. Never Enough. Second Best. Bitch. Whore. No One To Love. No One Loves Me. All Alone. Fake. Unworthy. Dyke. Only Ever Work On A Pole. Fags Go To Hell._

It was scrawled across the sides and the ceiling in markers and various make-up products that could be found; lipstick, eye liner, lip liner, eye shadow. It was angry, every word was written in angry writing, except _All Alone_, which appeared to be written so slowly that you could feel her realization sink in at her truth.

"Oh my god!" Rachel screamed and fled the room, tears already falling from her eyes. Quinn, Puck, Brittany and Kurt walked slowly over to where Rachel was, by the open door that Mr. Lopez was in. Looking in, they saw the bathroom connected to the bedroom. The walls were white, the tile was white, the toilet, the towels, the sink, all white.

Or at least…

It was.

Once.

Kurt blanched and took Rachel's lead in leaving the room of his dark club member. Only Puck, Quinn, and Brittany felt rooted to the spot at the sight before them.

The bathroom mirror held the same fate as the vanity mirror. Blood clung to little bits and soaked the floor. A razor lay on the cold tile next to crimson splatter. Mr. Lopez was kneeling on the floor, the knee's in his pants red from absorbing the thick liquid that seemed to be everywhere.

Santana's father let out silent sobs that shook his rocking frame. His teenage daughter, Santana Isobel Lopez, was in his arms. Her long charcoal colored hair clumped together and stuck to her skin. Her complexion, normally a natural olive, was pasty white. Her face was passive, not betraying her self. Her lips were opened a quarter of an inch, her eyes lightly closed, no muscle in her body appeared to be tense, all pleasantly relaxed.

Santana was half in her father's lap, half in the tub. Her knees were on the edge of the white tub stained scarlet. Her wrists, sliced too far down and so far up her arm, still bled at a steady pace. Her inner thighs were also slashed in jagged lines, those stopped at the elevation of her lower body. Her knuckles were bruised and bloody and her open palm hand red cuts along them.

Somewhere in all their minds, they were thankful that even in her suicidal mind, Santana left on a pair of simple black cotton panties and a matching bra so that her father wouldn't have to worry about her indecency, but instead her life that still hung in the balance by a thin spider's web.

"Call nine-one-one." Mr. Lopez whispered, his mouth against his child's cool forehead. "Call nine-one-one!" He shouted, whipping around. His eyes were swollen, red from crying. Tears glistened brightly on his tanned cheeks. Quinn ran from the room to call an ambulance.

"Mr. Lopez…?" Brittany asked him softly. He squeezed his eye lids together. "Should we put something on her scratches? I saw it on TV and it's supposed to stop the bleeding, right?" Slowly the man, who aged thirty years in the past five minutes, released his daughter from his death grip and pulled her the rest of the way out of the tub. He yanked his green button-down shirt off and began to rip it into pieces.

"Sir?" Mr. Lopez flicked his gaze up at Puck, who had also taken off his shirt, leaving both men in tank tops. "Here. To help with…" Puck glanced down at his former girlfriend.

"Thank you." He croaked hoarsely and took the shirt. The movements were rushed and soon all the wounds were covered, though they were quickly soaking up the blood.

"The ambulance should be here soon." Quinn said after she reappeared. Mr. Lopez, nodding, pushed hair from Santana's pale face.

"Oh mija, what led to this? What was happening that you could not tell me?" The older man murmured.

The three teenagers ducked out and went downstairs with the rest of the club to wait for the ambulance. It was somber downstairs, if not more than upstairs.

"So she…" Tina trailed off, seeing three of the five people to actually see Santana. "How is she?" As soon as the words left her mouth, she hit her self. "Never mind, don't answer that."

"How could we have not seen she was in trouble?" Puck growled, clenching his fists.

"You know how she was-is! I mean, you know how she is!" Finn jumped at his own slip of past tense.

"She was deflecting! That's how she is! How mean had she gotten lately? To keep attention off her self, goddamn it!" He turned and kicked the coffee table over. "She should have told us!"

"But she didn't and that's not our fault." Lauren rubbed his back softly as she cooed at him.

"I've known her, no, almost all of us have known her since we were ten. How could we not have seen her turn…suicidal?" The mow hawked boy asked, the last word making his stomach clench.

"She acted the same now as she did then." Rachel told him with a small frown.

"So she wanted to kill her self for seven years? Because with how she looked in there-" He cut him self off as an ambulance pulled up in the front yard.

Everyone jumped into their cars and trailed after the speeding ambulance. The others who hadn't seen Santana in her eerie environment blanched at the blood and absolute lifelessness of the normally lively girl.

The teenagers entered the parking lot as the paramedics quickly unloaded the teenaged Latina. Her father held tightly to the gurney with one hand and his child's hand with the other. The kids all chased him inside before they reached a bunch of doctors and nurses in flimsy yellow gowns.

The paramedics were yelling medical jargon and the doctors quickly took hold of the moving cart. One nurse turned and pushed Mr. Lopez off of the gurney. She held him back as he tried to move past her.

"That's my-Amy! That's my daughter!"

"I know, Mario." Said the five foot redhead. "But Richard and Garrett need to fix her up and they can't do that with you in there."

"But-"

"We'll take good care of her, I promise."

"She's the only child I have left, I can't lose her too."

"Let us do our job and you won't. Stay out here, I'll come back with any news, okay?" She squeezed his forearm thoughtfully before running off to help Santana.

Mario was left to look in the direction in which they took his daughter. He sighed after several minutes and turned to go to the waiting room. Running his fingers through his hair, he flopped down in the chairs. He looked up and scanned the crowd of frightened faces.

"So…you're my daughter's friends?" He smiled at Brittany as he already knew her.

"Yeah, we're all in Glee together." Rachel answered, sitting next to Quinn with Tina and Mike on the other side of her.

"What happened to Cheerios?"

"Coach tried to kill me." Brittany said, smiling faintly as she did so. Sam reached over and pat her knee.

"She tried to make Quinn, Brittany, and Santana choose between Glee and cheerleading." Finn explained, glancing over his shoulder at Puck and Lauren who said nothing and remained stoic.

"Santana picked Glee?" The way her father said it, he sounded generally surprised.

"Your daughter has a phenomenal voice, Mr. Lopez." Rachel commented.

He laughed, almost bitterly. "I know. She was amazing when she was younger, but after…she stopped singing when she was eight. I haven't heard a note, a hum, or whistle since."

"What happened?" Mercedes asked while Kurt nodded next to her.

Mario was silent for what seemed like forever before he answered. "What has she told you about our home life?"

"Only that you were a doctor, but we just learned this morning that you and her mother are divorced." Kurt told him.

"That little?" His eyes glistened again, but he blinked away the tears gathering in his eyes. "Santana had a twin, Santiago."

"A twin?" Quinn's eyebrows rose.

"Santiago?" Mercedes questioned.

"Had?" Brittany murmured.

"Yes, they were very close, stuck like glue some would say. They went to the park one day, alone. They had wanted to go all week, but Mia, their mother, and I were too busy to take them.

"So they walked them selves to the park, and when they were walking back…" He stopped to rub his eyes and sniffle. "When they were walking back, Santiago was struck by a car. He died later that week in the hospital. He was eight and a half. Santana never forgave her self. Even though she was only a few minutes older, she dubbed her self as his protector. That she couldn't protect her own twin brother…it broke her.

"Though I suppose she wasn't the only one. Her mother and I started arguing and fighting until eventually Mia took Santana and left. I didn't see them for a year, not for lack of trying to find them, and threw my self into work. When I did meet up with them, the damage was done. She closed her self off from the world and her mother was on drugs and drinking.

"I had gotten partial custody due to my work schedule, but I guess that made things worse because she was stuck in between us." He sighed. "I never thought abut it from her point of view before. Doesn't matter now." He muttered.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Lopez." Mario looked up and saw Brittany staring at him with broken eyes. "I'm so, so sorry." She got to her feet and sat next to him. The blonde leaned forward and caught the older man in a hug.

"It's not your fault, Brittany." He soothed her as much as she was doing for him.

"Do you think she left…a note?" Mike asked a few moments later.

"I'm not sure." Mario said, pulling away from his daughter's best friend. "Her room was disastrous. We'd have to shuffle through everything and I can't do that. Not while she's-" He looked off to where he last seen his child in hopes maybe a doctor had come back, but nothing happened.

"We'll do it for you." His head snapped around to catch Puck's eyes.

"What?"

"You need to be with Santana, the doctor's probably won't let all of us in anyway. Let us help. We'll do through Santana's stuff to help you out."

"You'd do that?"

"I think we'll do anything we can to help you right now." Quinn told him smiling.

"Now, we'll wait here until you can go in a sit with San and then we'll go comb the room." Said the Jewish boy.

"Thank you, all of you."

They sat there for the next couple hours before the nurse, Amy, and another doctor came out.

"Richard," Mario breathed, jumping to his feet. "How is she?" Richard O'Conner had dark hair that waved around his ears. His grey eyes were slightly off putting, but only because of how intense they were. Richard had known the Lopez's since they moved to Lima, Ohio, eleven years ago.

"Mario, how are you holding up?" Mario said fine and asked again about his daughter. "As you know, she had severe blood loss. We have it under control, we had to give her several units of type specific, understandably."

"Of course, of course, did you have enough AB?"

"Yes, don't worry about the hospital. We stitched Santana and wrapped her, but there's something I want to ask you about." He turned to Amy, who held out a large folder, which Richard took. He retracted his hand to show Mario, and the Glee club, photos.

"Now, we're found these on Santana and they're consistent with past and present chronic abuse." Several pictures were held out, all close up, most scars Mario couldn't identify and he too could see the signs of abuse on his daughter.

"Son of a-" He growled. "It was Mia, it had to be! When I get my hands on her-"

"Calm down, you need to be calm for Santana." Amy soothed gently. "I have to call social services, you know that right?"

"Do it. Mia, that monster…Call them, this needs to be reported, sooner rather than later."

"Okay, Amy's going to take you to see her. She's not going to look like the Santana you know-"

"The image of the Santana I knew was gone when I saw her covered in her own blood. Please take me to see her."

Once the adults left, the teens drove in the dark back to the Lopez household. Walking in, they all knew what they had to do, though none of them really wanted to. They treaded up the stairs and stood at the threshold of Santana's bedroom.

"Do we really have to go back in there?" Sam asked, swallowing his rising bile at the thought. Puck gave a quick flick of his head and flipped the light switch back on. All teenagers moved into the room.

"What do we do?" Rachel asked, eying the walls again.

"Find the suicide note." Quinn told her.

"What makes you think she left one?" Mike questioned.

"She wouldn't leave us hanging." They fanned out over the room to search. It was ten minutes before Rachel got sick of all the paper on the floor and began to pick it up.

"Wait a minute…" She grabbed a fist full of papers and quickly scanned them all. "Guys! She wrote music!"

"This isn't sectionals, or regionals, or nationals. It doesn't matter." Finn said, blowing her off to lift up a stack of books.

She glared at him, then turned her attention back to the music. "Cut my life into pieces, this is my last resort, suffocation, no breathing. Don't give a fuck if I cut my arm bleeding."

"What are you reading?" Puck asked, stepping next to her.

"This music she wrote. It's dated yesterday's date. I think…I think these are her suicide notes"

The kids picked up and searched for all of the music sheets they could find. Most were found under the bed. They read bits and pieces, the titles, and/or dates aloud.

"_Ugly_. Last Month."

"_Broken Home._ Five years ago."

"_Tired of You_. Three weeks ago."

"_Love is Dead_. Four months ago."

"_Recover_. Two weeks ago."

"_Strange_. Four months ago."

And so much more passed their eyes that they stopped saying them and just piled them together.

"She wrote in the vocal notes, altos, tenors, basses, sopranos. She wrote in the band, the different chords, notes, fermata's, staccato's, staffs, bar lines, time signature. It looks like a professional music sheet."

"What are you getting at Berry?" Lauren snapped.

"We should perform them-"

"Rachel!" "Berry!"

"No, no, hear me out. Just Glee club and Santana's Dad. We said we'd find the suicide note, well, all of these songs," she held up the papers in her hand, "are her notes." She looked around. "We could tell her story, to him and too each other. We'll start at the beginning and work our way to _Last Resort_. Each of us can have different songs, depending on how Santana wrote them."

It was silent for a moment, then Puck put his hand in the middle of all of them. "I'm in."

"Me too." Brittany said softly. Slowly the whole group had their hands in.

They would be playing out Santana Lopez's life through the songs she left behind.

**TBC…**


	2. Tears of an Angel

**Title:** Last Resort

**Fandom: **Glee

**Pairings: **Santana/her dad in the daughter/father way, Lauren/Puck, Tina/Mike, little bit Blaine/Kurt (should I put Faberry in? I tend to when I'm writing a Brittana, but what do you think?)

**Rating: **T (Self Mutilation and Attempted Suicide)

**Spoilers: **Anything before season three is fair game.

**Summary: **The room looked like an F5 tornado dropped down in just that one spot. The mattress was half way on the box spring, the covers and sheets and pillows were scattered around the room. The mirror on the vanity that Santana loved was shattered.

**Author's Note: **First, let me say that the story line is far more wonky then I originally imagined seeing as this is out of wack, I understand if you get confused, PM me if you get confused with it, okay? Also, do you guys want me to do flashbacks in between verses when Santana isn't singing, like when Glee does her songs?

Second, sorry for not updating for a while, I had gotten sick and then my brother stole the computer and then I wasn't in the right mind set to write it and then I had a week long project for English, I'm way to damn busy, lol.

Third! Thanks for the seven reviews, six favorites, and twenty one alerts!

_**PhantomGroupie91**_:_ I love the idea of it being about her and her dad and that's how this is going to go, thank you!_

_**star jelly**_**: **_I'm sorry that it strikes close to home, but I hope it's better now. I'll try to keep up more with updates, but I was sick and my brother hogged the computer! :) Thank you for your review, I danced a little when I saw you put beautiful and terrifying and oh so good, my friend laughed at me._

_**Anonymous: **__Thank you for tell me that it snows in Ohio, I was too lazy to go look it up *Blushes*_

_**val-cb: **__Thank you, I'm updating now, ;D_

_**I Want A Pet Wombat: **__I love that word, haunting, thank you! And no, no song writing for me, I wish I could, but the songs I have picked out are amazing (if I do say so my self)_

_**undertheopensky: **__Thank you! I'll try to update, at least once a week._

_**polarpi: **__You're welcome, thank you for reviewing, it's going to be a little weird, so I'm going to be posting these through trial and error, so please bear with me!_

**Disclaimer: **I won't own it ever, I wouldn't want to, way too much pressure, also don't own RyanDan's _Tears of an Angel_…

_Last Resort_

_**February 26, 2011**_

It was early when the kids came back from Santana's house. They all headed to the hospital after talking to their respective parents to tell Mario of their plans and hopefully gain his approval. It was around two thirty in the morning and the white hallways of the hospital were deserted and silent with the exception of their squeaking sneakers on the linoleum.

The night nurse looked up from her crossword puzzle at the sound of the shuffling teenagers. She smiled softly at them once they saw her, Amy had told her of them and told her to help in anyway she could. "Hello, do you kids need anything?" She asked sweetly.

Tina nodded. "Yes…Susanna," She read off the nametag, "we need to speak to Mr. Lopez, it's about Santana's…notes." The Asian girl winced at her fumble of words.

"Of course, why don't you all just sit in there," she pointed to a small room off to the side. "It's the waiting room for this floor. I'll go get him, okay?" She smiled again and walked quickly to the room harboring a father and his unconscious daughter.

The students sluggishly moved into the other room that Susanna moved them to. They were all worn out, physically and emotionally, after the days events and they all planned to sleep at Quinn's house, as they weren't ready to be apart from each other yet. They almost panicked when any one of them noticed someone from the group missing. They found this out when Mike when to the bathroom without telling anyone and it ended up with Tina, Brittany, and Rachel crying and Sam frowning for an hour and the rest of them eternally coming apart.

It was only a few minutes until Mario came into the room, running a hand through his hair. He mustered up the best smile he could when he saw his daughter's friends, even then it was weak. "Hello, kids."

"How is she?" Brittany asked immediately.

He sighed deeply. "They have her in a medically induced coma right now. They want to slowly wean her off of the medication as to see her state of mind. She'll be out for a couple of days at least." A silence followed his words. He coughed. "Did you find anything?"

"Uh, yeah, um." Quinn pulled papers from a messenger bag she saw in Santana's room. "We found these music sheets, it dates back to two thousand two." She told him, handing over some of the sheets. He barely glanced at them before tearing up and sniffling.

"We wanted to know if we could perform them, Mr. Lopez. For you and the rest of the Glee club. So we can understand where she was coming from and what lead to this." Rachel said, trying to soften her words. The Latino licked his lips, let out a shuttery breath, and sniffled again.

"Just us?" He asked, sounding almost like a child, that Brittany and Quinn suddenly understood where their friend got her vulnerable side from.

"Yes sir." Sam nodded his head to complement his words.

"Then you'll want to see the video of Santiago's funeral." They looked at him with blank and slightly horrified faces. "Santana wrote a song, and sang it to her brother when he was in the hospital. Someone had her sing it at the funeral and my mother taped it and gave it to me afterword. It's in my closet, at the top in a small shoe box. It'll be kind of hard to miss." He told them. "I've already seen it. I don't need to again."

With that, both groups went their separate ways, Mario to Santana, the Glee club back to Santana's to receive the tape and then Quinn's to watch the tape and sleep. Once they were all settled in the Fabray living room, Quinn took the VHS and slipped it into her dual DVD/VHS player. The video was shaky at first and took a moment to clear, but once it did, their hearts cracked.

Santana stood tall with her hair pulled back into a loose braid and a maroon dress on with a sash in the middle tied into a bow just above her bottom. White tights and her Sunday best shoes completed the outfit. Behind her was a small, child sized coffin that was a deep mahogany with an array of flowers over it. Near the end, you could see a blue toy race car with the numbers thirty six on the top and side in white.

"_She's about to start."_ An unfamiliar voice said from behind the camera. It wasn't proud, or happy, or anything really. The voice stated a fact and left it at that. The murmurs around the church quieted when the little girl stepped up to the microphone.

"_I miss my brot'er. My twin, Santiago, is my best friend, and I wrote this w'ile 'e was 'urt in the 'ospital and I sang it to 'im to make 'im better, but it didn't work, so Aunt Maya wanted me to sing it too 'im right now." _She stepped away from the small mic stand and took a deep breath. Slowly, piano music filtered into the church walls and an air feeling made the group of teens shiver. She went to the microphone and sang in a soft, but powerful voice.

_Cover my eyes  
>Cover my ears<br>Tell me these words are a lie  
>It cant be true<br>That I'm losing you  
>The sun cannot fall from the sky<em>

Her words were heart breaking and seemed so badly to want to believe that he wasn't gone, that he wasn't leaving her. She dragged out consonances and pronounced the words like a grown adult, not missing the 'h's like in her usual speech.

_Can you hear heaven cry  
>Tears of an angel<br>Tears of aaaaaaaa...  
>Tears of an angel<br>Tears of an angel._

Violinists dragged their bows across tightened strings to add to the haunting effect that was Santana's voice. Her voice rounded and waved, but didn't jump. She blinked heavily so she wouldn't cry. She sucked in a deep breath and continued.

_Stop every clock  
>Stars are in shock<br>The river will flow to the sea  
>I wont let you fly<br>I wont say goodbye  
>I wont let you slip away from me<em>

Her face twisted into that of utmost agony, her eyes squeezing tightly closed, her nails digging into her palms, her knees wobbled. She didn't want him to go, to leave her, to go be in a more 'peaceful place'. She didn't want to say goodbye to the person she always protected and who always needed her protecting and love and support. That person was gone now, no matter what she wanted.

_Can you hear heaven cry  
>Tears of an angel<br>Tears of aaaaaaaa...  
>Tears of an angel<br>Tears of an angel._

The music played up dramatically as her voice carried out. She opened her small brown eyes and turned to look at the coffin that contained her little, broken brother.

_So hold on  
>Be strong<br>Everyday on we'll go  
>I'm here, don't you fear<em>

She walked away from the microphone, but her voice was still heard. Santana let her fingers run across the smooth wood, before grabbing the small blue car at the end. She gripped it in her hands and, even with her back to the camera, they could tell she was crying.

_Little one don't let go  
>(ooooooooooohhhhhhhhh)<br>Don't let go  
>(ooooooooooohhhhhhhhh)<br>Don't let go  
>(ooooooooooohhhhhhhhh)<em>

Her lungs held and pushed out the notes, her final ode to her brother. She turned back around, the car still in hand and stood stock still in front of the crowd. Tears ran down her face and she was trembling all over now, but there was nothing they could do, this was before any of them had known her.

_Cover my eyes  
>Cover my ears<br>Tell me these words are a lie_

Her words were barely above a whisper, but it was all in her to not completely break down, no, she had to finish. Once the word 'lie' left her lips, she ran off stage and no one clapped and did anything. The camera shut off without any parting words.

All the teens sat around, tears in their eyes or on their cheeks. Quinn quickly jumped to the VCR and stopped it and started to rewind it, not at all minding the eerie blue light that was cast upon them. "Maybe we should go to sleep now." She offered. There were no words, but nods all around. They pulled out the couch beds and the boys dragged Quinn's bed and the guest bed down the stairs to the living room. They all found their spots and, with ironic 'good night's all around, they forced them selves to sleep, the images of Little Santana and Bloody Santana still fresh in their brains.

**TBC…**


	3. Anthem of the Angels

**Title:** Last Resort

**Fandom: **Glee

**Pairings: **Santana/her dad in the daughter/father way, Lauren/Puck, Tina/Mike, little bit Blaine/Kurt

**Rating: **T (Self Mutilation and Attempted Suicide)

**Spoilers: **Anything before season three is fair game.

**Summary: **The room looked like an F5 tornado dropped down in just that one spot. The mattress was half way on the box spring, the covers and sheets and pillows were scattered around the room. The mirror on the vanity that Santana loved was shattered.

**Author's Note: **I feel super lame because it's been so long since I updated, but I was (I'm not gunna lie) intimidated by this story and how much of you liked it. I couldn't find a way to work in the group telling Artie and Mr. Shue about Santana in this chapter because I think it would have looked weird and out of place, so if you'd like a separate one-shot of that, lemme know.

I also know _nothing_ about hospital suicide thingys in Ohio, I'm going to look them up later, so sorry for not being as accurate as I want it (and I'm trying to be, look up the dates, they really are the real days of the week, even back in the past dates I'm throwing down)

_**gravy: **I see your point with the Faberry, okay, thank you! And sorry for taking so long with the updating!_

_**polarpi: ***Blushes* There's that haunting thing again, it makes my insides flutter. I'm going to do my best to make the Glee club understand, let me know what you think of this format.! Thank you! :)_

**Disclaimer: **I won't own it ever, I wouldn't want to, way too much pressure, also don't own Breaking Benjamin's _Anthem of the Angels._

_Last Resort_

_**June 17, 2002**_

_Eight year old Santana walked alone into the hospital, shaking the rain drops that frizzed up her hair. Slowly, she made her way to an elevator and pressed the Three button to go to the floor that held her twin brother. Making her way from the silver contraption, she let her finger tips graze the white halls of the hallway. It was a long walk that she made every morning, every afternoon, every evening, but she didn't mind._

_Santana let out a deep breath, allowing it to whistle past her teeth and out the missing slot in her row of white bones. She had a bad feeling about today's visit, goose bumps rose on her forearms, the hair on her neck stood, she couldn't shake the feeling of darkness loaming over her. _

_Before she could think more on it, three fourteen came into view. Her brother's room. No one was in the spacious hospital room, no one, but her brother. She let out another breath, shakier than the last, and something rumbled in her chest, a feeling of foreboding Her brother was alone, stuck in a white cell by himself to never get out again. He would be alone and she couldn't get to him._

_Pushing down the tears that suddenly wet her eyes, she stepped into the room and stood at her brother's side. He was cut and black and purple. He had bandages all around his head and body and a tube in his mouth to help him breathe. A hiss sounded in her ears, reminding her that Santiago was not really breathing, some machine was for him._

_Taking his hand, careful of the IV, she checked around her. Once she was sure no one was near, she began to hum, and when she felt it was right, she began to sing._

_White walls surround us  
>No light will touch your face again<br>Rain taps the window  
>As we sleep among the dead<em>

_Her other hand gently cupped his face, her thumb rubbing one of his eyebrows. She knew he wasn't going to be alright. Her Mama and Papa didn't think she could hear them (or maybe they didn't care), but she did and what she heard was bad. Permanent brain damage, spinal damage, injuries to the liver, intestines, left eye, and completely shattered right foot. She didn't know what all of them meant, but she knew some of them and the ones she did know where bad. Awful. _

_He wasn't going to be alive for their next birthday, the one where he wanted to do Super Heroes and only convinced her by telling her she could Harley Quinn or Poison Ivy. She didn't want to have a party, not without Santiago. He wasn't going go into the fourth grade and be a troublemaker. He wasn't going to ever get a job. He wouldn't be a daddy. He wouldn't ever, ever have someone who loved him more than his twin sister. Never. _

_She couldn't blink away the tears now._

_She glanced at the window. It was raining, not hard, but not soft either. It wasn't raining like this a week ago when Santiago was hit by the car. Maybe if it was, they wouldn't have gone to the park. Santana shook her head, they probably would have, Santiago loved this kind of weather, he would have wanted to go in shorts and a tank top and convinced Santana to do the same. She would have._

_Looking out the door, she saw more people, lots like her brother; bandaged and unrecognizable to the human eye. An old man was across the way and an old woman was next to him. She held his hand like Santana held Santiago's. Santana could tell she was the old man's sister. Twin sister. Call it her twin-epathy peaking. The old woman looked over and caught Santana's eyes. Her brother was dying too. Santana nodded and the woman nodded back. Both looked away from each other._

_Days go on forever  
>But I have not left your side<br>We can chase the dark together  
>If you go then so will I<em>

_She felt as though she had been here longer than a week. It felt like every school year she had ever done in her whole life wrapped up into one. But she wouldn't leave her brother's side. Not if she could help it anyway. He would have stayed by her bedside; he did once when she had to get her tonsils out. He sat in bed with her and they colored together._

_He can't color and she wasn't allowed in his bed. She tried and they yelled at her for fifteen minutes before her mother spanked her and kicked her out of the hospital room. After that, she took to holding his hand and singing to him, it was the only thing they use to do together that no one ever understood. They could come up with amazing songs off the tip of their tongues. Santiago sang to her, she could sing back to him._

_She swore to him when no adults were around that if he died, she would find a way to be with him. They could be together forever, all she asked was for him to wait for her. She knew of a darkness when you died, Abuelo had a near death experience and told them how it was dark with a speck of bright whiteness at the end of it. Santana and Santiago were afraid of the dark and she wouldn't let him go by him self._

_There is nothing left of you  
>I can see it in your eyes<br>Sing the anthem of the angels  
>And say the last goodbye<em>

_This body that was her brother's, it was just that, a body. His being wasn't in it anymore, she felt him around sometimes, but when she told her Tia that, her Tia smiled at her sadly and told her he was always in their hearts. That's not what she meant, but she didn't believe her, or didn't want to, she was crying after Santana told her. She easily turned over her brother's hand and tickled the inside of his palm with her finger tips. He didn't move, not like he did a few days ago._

_Flipping his hand so it was palm down again, she kissed his needle stuffed vein. She was telling him it was okay that he left his body, as long as he didn't leave all together. She wanted him to be comfortable and could bet that his body wasn't like their bunk beds at home. Santana squeezed his and held on again._

_Cold light above us  
>Hope fills the heart<br>And fades away  
>Skin white as winter<br>As the sky returns to grey_

_Santana reached over and pulled up Santiago's blanket. It was cold in the hospital, yet somehow the lights made it worse. They made Santana feel like she was in a freezer, like the one at her Mom's brother's house that she and Santiago liked to walk into and make puffs of air that they could see._

_She knew her family had hope for her brother, if not because they truly thought he'd get better, then because they didn't want to believe he was going to go so soon. But Santana slowly saw the hope fade from her family member's hearts. It was like having a balloon that you loved so much and kept close, but woke up the next morning finding it drooping farther to the floor and shrinking in size._

_Her family member's hope was a balloon shrinking in on its self and nothing she could do would stop that._

_Rubbing her brother's arm, she hoped to bring some color back into it. He was so pale. Paler than their Uncle's new girlfriend Rebecca. She wanted him to look like his normal self when he left his body, so he didn't make jokes or get scared, but nothing she did helped, so she soon gave up._

_Days go on forever  
>But I have not left your side<br>We can chase the dark together  
>If you go then so will I<em>

_She sang the same line again because she felt it had some meaning, and it did. She would be with her brother forever, never would she let him be by himself, she was his protector, or was. And if she couldn't protect him in life, then in death was the only option. If he goes, then so will she._

_She looked up at the old twins again and saw the woman standing at her door way, listening to Santana's words to her little brother. The woman nodded, asking for her to continue and Santana nodded back, telling her she would. Her dark gaze fell on her brother's small form again._

_There is nothing left of you  
>I can see it in your eyes<br>Sing the anthem of the angels  
>And say the last goodbye<br>I keep holding onto you  
>But I can't bring you back to life<br>Sing the anthem of the angels  
>Then say the last goodbye<em>

_She couldn't. She tried to save her brother, but nothing she did worked and once she found this wound too deep for her to fix for her brother, she started to let him go. She needed him, and she knew he needed her too, but she wanted him to be pain free and happy, and if she could let him do that, then she would._

_She put her free hand on his visible eyelid and covered it with the palm of her hand, her own sort of goodbye to her best friend._

_Your're dead alive  
><em>_Your're dead alive  
><em>_Your're dead alive  
><em>_Your're dead alive_

_He wasn't there, making him dead, but his heart was still beating, and from what she heard doctors say, he was still alive. It was confusing to her, but she made the term, dead-alive to describe the state of her baby brother. It was all she could do. A sniffling from the doorway made her look away from Santiago, the old woman was crying. She waved her hand in apology, Santana accepted it._

_There is nothing left of you  
>I can see it in your eyes<br>Sing the anthem of the angels  
>And say the last goodbye<br>I keep holding onto you  
>But I can't bring you back to life<br>Sing the anthem of the angels  
>And say the last goodbye<em>

_Kissing her brother's hand on last time, the little girl let go of her twin. As soon as the connection of their hands was lost, his monitors beeped loudly and rapidly. It was a few seconds before people rushed into the room and tried to save her dead brother, but Santana watched. She knew he was gone._

"_Goodbye Little Brother. Wait for me Santiago." She whispered into his ear once she pushed the doctor and two nurses out of the way. She kissed his bruised cheek and left the room to go into the hallway to have the old woman wrap her in a hug, something, she realized, no one has done since her brother was hit by a car._

_**February 28, 2011**_

Puck moved away from the microphone and dropped to his knees. Tears fell from his eyes as he pounded the stage floor in the auditorium. Rachel hiccupped from sobbing so hard during the second performance of her club mate's music. Quinn rubbed Rachel's arm with one hand and Brittany's back with the other as the tall blond tried to fold in on herself. Mario sat next to Mr. Shue, both men with wet faces and the only sound in the spacious room was Puck's fist hitting the floor and cries from the members.

"It was…" Mario breathed out, before stopping because air caught in his throat. "It was about Santiago. She visited him, 'round clock when he was in the hospital and was there when he died." He told them.

"Thank you for performing that Puck." Mr. Shue said, standing to stop the boy from hurting himself.

"She knew he was going to die." Mercedes whispered, but it was heard throughout the echo-y space.

"She knew and still stayed with him." Sam murmured. The group closed their eyes. "She was so young and she was…She stayed when she _knew_ he was going to die." He emphasized. Sam looked down into his lap so his blonde hair covered his blue eyes. "I don't know if I could have done that at that age."

"I would have." Puck said, getting to his feet. "If my little sister was in the hospital, dying, I would do everything in my power to be with her until she died. No one deserves to die alone." He finished. "I have to…go, I can't be in this school right now." He jumped from the stage. The Glee kids stood and followed him, with Mike and Finn carrying Artie up the steps.

"Let's go to the park, the one by the candy store?" Brittany said, while they walked out. "San loved it there and we could get some candy from when she can see us again." Her voice faded as the group walked out, leaving the two men and the band, who were sworn to secrecy on Santana.

"I better get going, back to the hospital you know." The Latino told the curly haired teacher.

"Wait, Mr. Lopez-"

"Mario."

"Mario, how is Santana?" The worn out man sighed and shook his head.

"She's still in and out of it. She won't talk, but she tried to bite the nurse when she came in to feed Santana, so they had to sedate her a little more. One of her wounds is infected too, so they have her on anti-everything. She's running a low grade fever, but those are dangerous because they spike at any given time."

"I'm sorry." The teacher said sincerely.

"I know. Look, I really need to get back, I'm sor-"

"No, no, don't be, I understand, go."

**TBC…**


End file.
